


Of the Shades

by BootsnBlossoms



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Angst, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Hades!Kate, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Persephone!Allison, Sexual Assault Doesn't Happen to Any Characters in the Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2014-09-16
Packaged: 2018-02-17 16:59:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2316884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BootsnBlossoms/pseuds/BootsnBlossoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of violent death is so much more complicated, and more closely tied to ancient mythology, than Allison would ever have believed in life. The supernatural world's need for balance, however, seems to remain the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of the Shades

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohwolfed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohwolfed/gifts).



> I was assigned [ohwolfed](http://ohwolfed.tumblr.com) for the Teen Wolf Rare Pair exchange. The bits from her request that I used were: allison/erica, allison/kate; alternate universe, alternate reality (ie canon universe, but different); fluff, hurt/comfort, light angst, heavy angst, and/or grim dark; non canon creatures, magic, mythology in modern settings, creatures, sci-fi, and religious themes; monster run world, no humans, lots of different creatures, and one sided allison/kate. Hope you like it, friend!
> 
> As ever, my eternal thanks to [zooeyscigar](http://zooeyscigar.tumblr.com) for the uber-fast beta read and for generally being one of the most awesome, amazing people I know. {{{snuggles you}}}
> 
> Also, major tackle hugs to [anneincolor](http://anneincolor.tumblr.com) not only for coming up with the Persephone idea, but also for running [Root Cellar](http://client00.chat.mibbit.com/?channel=%23rootcellar&server=irc.fdfnet.net). It's the Teen Wolf equivalent of Anti-Diogenes, where the coolest and most imaginative femslash and rarepair peeps hang out:D Love you guys! Couldn't have done it without you <3

Allison could feel Kate’s presence behind her, a dark and calculating observer who made no move to interfere. But that was just fine with Allison. She had this perfectly under control.

“Well?” Allison hummed, voice a low seductive purr, as she dragged the yellow silk of her scarf over her charge’s naked back. Before being sent to the Underworld, the man had been a military general, known by most as an extremely effective strategist and one hell of a shot. Now, all his titles, his stripes, his medals, and his bars had been stripped away. Literally and figuratively naked, the arrogance he once broadcast in his well-muscled shoulders and the sharp jut of his strong jaw had vanished, and he trembled where he knelt facing away from Allison.

“Twenty-seven,” he whimpered, shivering at the feel of cold silk on his clammy body. Allison had never believed in hell — had never been raised to believe in any mythology of any sort — and she’d never understood why Christians believed the underworld would be hot. Here, wherever _here_ was, was like every other subterranean shit hole Allison had ever had the pleasure of messing around in: cold, damp, dark, and unpleasant. Even through the thick brown leather of her wool-lined ankle-dress, the fur that lined her knee-high boots, and the fox skin that she wore like a collar, Allison felt the chill of her new home sink into her bones. The cool silk of the scarf probably felt horrid on the man’s nasty back.

“Twenty-seven,” Allison repeated, the old anger rising up in her. “You raped twenty-seven women, just like this, naked and zip tied and kneeling in front of you, didn’t you?”

With a sharp kick to the ribs, bones snapping loudly under the force of her anger, Allison hinted that he wasn’t answering fast enough for her. It was true that no one died here, but Allison sure as hell could make them _feel_ like they were dying.

“Yes!” the man screamed. He turned his head towards her, but kept his eyes firmly shut as tear leaked from them. “Yes, it’s true. Two every tour.”

“And then you killed them. Wrapped a scarf around their neck until they stopped breathing. Until someone finally did the world a favor and shot you between the eyes,” Allison hissed.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Oh, _god_ ,” he sobbed, tears splattering on the dirt under his knees.

“There are no _gods_ here,” Allison chuckled darkly. “And you’re not _really_ sorry. Not yet, anyway.” Then she wrapped the silk around her hands, bent over the man’s prone body, and pulled the scarf until his face was purple and swollen, eyes bloodshot and huge, body limp in the suspended state of torturous death that it was now Allison’s job to inflict on the unrighteous. Only when he passed out did Allison release him. She kicked him again for good measure, then stepped away. “See you tomorrow.”

“You’re so good at this,” Kate said approvingly as Allison walked through the doors of the man’s cell. Allison let the iron door swing shut with a dramatic clang behind her, then hung the yellow scarf on a hook over the tiny hole that served as a window. She didn’t need to lock the door; the magic ensured that her charge couldn’t leave the two by five cage whether the door was open or locked.

“I don’t deny that I find a certain measure of satisfaction in my work,” Allison shrugged. She pushed past Kate, eager to mark the day as over on her calendar in their room. It was a circular Greek zodiac, but Allison had been careful to draw out the lines of days so her countdown could be as accurate as possible. 

Kate followed her down the maze of fire-lit tunnels to what Kate called “their sanctuary” - a small, castle-like building carved directly into the stone of the earth. It was about sixteen feet tall and, at Allison’s request, the ceilings were painted blue and white and yellow and red - all the colors of the a cloudy evening sky that Allison didn’t see nearly enough anymore. There was only one massive room, filled with pillows and fabrics and tables and bookshelves, all warm and bright and soothing.

Not that all the colors nor all the soft fabrics in the world could make the place feel any less like the prison that it was. Here, alone with Kate, Allison was truly more trapped than anywhere else in the Underworld.

Kate sat on the edge of their bed, a giant wrought-iron thing draped with sheer, gauzy curtains, and watched as Allison carefully painted a dot over the square that represented today. 

“Is it really so bad, not being a spirit?” Kate asked, eyes narrowed.

Allison stared at her aunt, certain the the disbelief and sheer _anger_ in her expression were all the answer Kate needed. But Kate merely chuckled and let herself fall backwards on the bed until she was resting on her elbows, staring expectantly at her niece.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Allison, honey,” Kate sighed, rolling to sit up. She shook her head, wide mouth pulling into a smirk that twisted unpleasantly across her narrow face. “I’m not just the Bone Woman anymore. When your father killed me, he promoted me. I’m the Ruler of the Underworld, and I chose _you_ to rule with me.”

“I wasn’t just a spirit before,” Allison pointed out, stepping back as Kate stood. She gripped her paintbrush tight in her hand and gave Kate a warning look. “I was training to be a protector —”

Kate cut her off with a derisive laugh. “A guardian angel, Allison? Really? That’s what you want out of your afterlife? Aren’t you having much more fun down here, tormenting the wicked, punishing the damned?” She crossed the short distance between them and dragged a light hand down Allison’s face, rough knuckles scraping painfully across soft cheekbone before thumbing over her bottom lip.

Allison jerked back and swung, stabbing the sharp wooden end of the paintbrush as deep as she could into Kate’s shoulder. 

So far, in the month or so that Allison had been there, Kate had mostly left her alone. She’d stayed close, brushing against Allison at every opportunity, made comments about their status as co-rulers, and been otherwise suggestive in a way that Allison hoped was merely a tease. And even though Kate forced Allison to sleep next her every night, Kate curled around her like a snake, she’d never moved into anything more. But there was no mistaking the want in Kate’s eyes tonight as she whistled and pulled the paintbrush from her shoulder. 

“You’re my aunt,” Allison hissed, horrified. 

“Really?” Kate laughed, dropping the paintbrush on the floor as her wound immediately healed over. “We’re in the Underworld now, Allison. We’re gods. Human rules, ridiculous societal taboos, don’t apply to us anymore.”

“Then consider my objection based on sheer disgust,” Allison huffed. “You kidnapped me from the ether. You stole me from the other guardians’ training facility. You didn’t give me a choice.”

“And I paid for that, didn’t I?” Kate hissed, her eyes flashing. She took another step closer to Allison, the leather of her tight pants swishing with her swift movement. Under the thin white linen of Kate’s shirt, Allison could see the thrum of her heartbeat fluttering angrily at her neck. “I have to send you topside for half the year, don’t I? Six months of being alone, of having to deal with all of this by myself.”

“Then maybe you should have picked a _willing_ partner to manage hell with you,” Allison shot back. 

“You’ll learn,” Kate leered, a nasty promise buried in her sharp words. “You’ll accept the only choice laid before you, and you’ll be my queen, my Persephone, because it’s so much better, so much smarter than the alternative.” She reached out again, and Allison shuddered, then grabbed Kate’s hand, twisted until something cracked, and shoved Kate backwards so hard she bounced on the packed dirt when she fell. 

“I am no wilting flower, no defiant but helpless girl contorted by ancient, arrogant men into weakness, and you _will not touch me without permission.”_ With a final look of disgust, she turned and walked away.

 

_Three Months Later_

Allison hated climbing to the surface. Like so many other things about the watered-down stories children were read on brightly colored elementary school rugs, the reality was much darker — and much more painful. She didn’t climb a set of rock stairs from a schism in the earth, before dashingly happily into Hermes’ and Apollo’s and Demeter’s joyful company. No, the shifting of the seasons was too volatile for that. Instead, she had to check the crack in the ice every damn day for months until was wide enough to shimmy through. It sometimes took hours to claw through the dirt on the other side to the surface, and when she finally did make it, there was never anyone waiting for her.

This time was no different.

Allison’s clothes were caked with dirt and ice by the time she reached the surface, and her hair was a tangled mess of roots and debris. Her fingertips were scraped raw and bleeding, and it took her what felt like a lifetime to cough the dirt free of her lungs. But the sun shone steadily on her face, and for long minutes Allison couldn’t move, face turned up to the impossible brightness, while she soaked in the heat.

When the sun started sinking behind the trees, bathing the Preserve in twilight, Allison finally started moving again. She could feel the tug of home deep in her chest, and none of the monsters Beacon Hills had attracted dared stop her as she walked. 

Well, except the monsters Allison allowed to stop her.

Victoria smelled faintly of burnt asphalt and ash as she embraced Allison, and the tips of her auburn hair were literally on fire. Resurrection as a fire demon (one of those who razed the forest to the Earth at the end of the harvest season) hadn’t changed her personality, merely her ability to act on her rage, and Allison flung herself into her mother’s arms without restraint. 

“How was the winter?” Allison asked, completely unperturbed by the heat.

“Lonely,” Victoria said, hugging her daughter tight. “But over now. Are you ready for spring?”

“Warmth,” Allison hummed, grinning. “So, so ready.”

“How is Kate treating you?”

“You don’t want to know,” Allison sighed.

“You’re powerful down there,” Victoria said, gripping Allison’s shoulders tight. “No matter what she tries to tell you, no matter how she tries to control you, remember that. You’re equals. Always have been. She has no power over you at all.”

“I know,” Allison said, nodding her head firmly. It wasn’t a lie; Allison was slowly growing more and more confident in her new supernatural abilities, and Kate’s recent desperate attempts at subjugating her were complete failures. Allison didn’t want to spend half her life fighting Kate, but she wouldn’t break.

“All right,” Victoria nodded, pulling back. “Good girl. Now, I won’t keep you. Go see your lover.”

~~~

Allison had lost a lot in the aftermath of Kate’s deal with the powers that be (though she still wasn’t entirely certain who those powers were). But the one thing — the one choice she’d been able to make — she had gotten in return was enough to make it all worth it.

“I love that you need me like this, that I’m the only one who can touch you like this,” Erica breathed out, honey brown eyes focused on where her pale hands tangled in Allison’s black hair, rhythmically petting through the raven waves gone brittle underground. Bits of leaves and ice and roots fell to the creme-colored carpet as she worked, and Allison smiled into Erica’s lap. “I love that you come home to curl unapologetically into my arms, clawing me and wanting me, like my very own little dark kitten. But I’m sorry, too. Sorry for the price of it.”

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Allison sighed, turning her head to smile up at Erica. She’d only been in Erica’s room, in her warm arms, for less than ten minutes, and already she felt completely at ease. 

“Okay,” Erica agreed easily. With supernatural strength that Allison didn’t fight, Erica pulled Allison from her recline and into her lap to kiss her. Allison couldn’t help but shake and whine at the touch; six months without consensual, pleasurable physical contact was much too long.

Erica started to pull away, and a pathetic whimper of protest escaped Allison’s slightly parted lips. Ashamed of her trembling, the physical evidence of her emotional desperation, Allison schooled her expression into playful affection and let herself slide free from the hot embrace of Erica’s thighs.

“Oh no you don’t,” Erica chided, though she shoved her backward onto the bed — and further away from her warm body. The separation didn’t last long, though; Erica only left Allison spread vulnerably on the red comforter long enough to pull her feet free from her boots.

“No socks?” Erica joked, stroking Allison’s calf.

“You’d be amazed at how, even under the threat of torture, former fashion designers and seamsters don’t want to bother with the basics.”

“Oh really?” Erica asked, grinning. Her long fingers trailed wickedly over the button clasps of Allison’s dress before she popped the top one open.

Allison laughed for the first time in months and relaxed as Erica bared her slowly-warming skin to the empty air.

When they were done, Allison would get up and cross a day off on the calendar, her heart growing just a little heavier with every red X she drew. But for now, as she lost herself in the warmth of Erica’s mouth and fingers and skin, the turning of the seasons was nothing but a distant threat whose consideration could wait until the next blissful sunrise.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This feels more like a plot bunny than an actual fic. I'd love to expand it; hopefully I have time sometime soon. 
> 
> Don't forget to leave kudos if you like it!
> 
> Fic previews, eye candy, prompt fills, and gpoy galore [on my Tumblr](http://bootsnblossoms.tumblr.com).


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